The AT ATeam 8: The Greatest Gift of All
by Emily N. Daniel
Summary: O Holy Crap! Santa's been kidnapped and it's up to Admiral Twin and their new elf companion to save him and Christmas! I hope you enjoy this little holiday treat, but remember that you get what you pay for...and this is free! Nah, it's good, I promise.


"Merry Christmas, everybody!" John called into the microphone. The crowd cheered. It was the final show in their hometown of Tulsa before the beloved holiday, which was only two days away. All the guys in Admiral Twin were fans of the season. Mark could not wipe the smile from his face as he slapped down mad rhythms upon his bass. Jarrod also seemed particularly spirited behind the drums that night. John joined in their enthusiasm and rocked out on his guitar harder than he had in a long time. The roar of the crowd reverberated throughout the room.

Before any of them wanted it to be, the show was over. The applause went on for several minutes as the crowd gave a standing ovation. It was absolutely exhilarating, the perfect way to begin the start of their long-awaited holiday break. The guys started packing up, stopping occasionally to chat with fans. Unfortunately, their friend Steven was away with his family on vacation and their other friend Kara had to work that night. That being said, it took much longer than usual to get things done. By the time they had everything loaded into the van, it was hours into the A.M. and nearly everyone else had left the venue. Only a couple of fans remained to purchase some albums.

Jarrod took the money and thanked them. He wished them a happy holiday and went to put the remaining CDs into the van. He was about to shut the door when he heard someone violently clear their throat. "Who's there?" he said, looking around but seeing no one. He shrugged and was once again about to shut the door when he once again heard the violent throat-clearing.

"You know, maybe if you looked down, you might realize I am standing right next to you."

Jarrod, startled, looked down and found himself staring at a man less than half his height. He was incredibly unkempt and filthy, plus he gave off a less-than-pleasant odor. His face had a cherub appearance, yet his eyes seemed angry and his brown hair and beard were very ragged and very tangled. He probably hadn't bathed in days, maybe weeks. "Um, hello," Jarrod greeted him, unable to draw his eyes away from this rather repulsive little man. "Can I help you with something?"

"Actually, yes, you can," the little man grinned from ear to ear. That's when Jarrod noticed that the little man's ears were pointed like those of an elf's. He couldn't help but find that very, very odd.

"Hey, Jarrod, you ready to go?" John walked up to him. "Whoa, dude! It reeks over here! Did you rip one or what?!"

Jarrod scowled. "Maybe, but it doesn't matter. You wouldn't smell it over this guy's stench."

John stared down and his eyes grew wide. "Oh, wow! He looks like one of those elves that help out the mall Santas! Ahhh, he's so cute, even with his horrendous stench! Did you just come from work, little man?"

The little man glared at John murderously, then quickly regained his composure. "Like I'd even associate with those imposters. They make a mockery of our profession, dressing up in silly costumes and prancing around like fairies. It's sickening, I tell you!"

"Guys, what is the hold-up?" Mark came out from behind the van and stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes nearly bugged out of their skull as he laid them upon the tiny, smelly man. "Cousin Sanchez?" he finally spit out. The little man's grin grew wider still.

Jarrod and John stared in shock at their fellow band mate. "You know this guy?!" Jarrod exclaimed.

"Of course," Mark answered, "but I haven't seen him in many years. Cousin, why are you here?"

The little man frowned. "Perhaps I'll explain myself once I've been given a proper introduction."

"You haven't changed a bit," Mark sighed, "Jarrod...John...This is my cousin, Sanchez the Dirty Elf."

"Sanchez the Dirty Elf?" Jarrod's eyebrow raised.

"Well, I used to put the Dirty part before Sanchez," the little man explained, "but this seemed to cause a lot of unnecessary giggling. Gawd, how I loathe unnecessary giggling."

"I don't get it," John replied.

"Anyway, Sanchez, you never explained why you're here," Mark went on, "Why have you shown up now, after all these years?"

"Mark, while I can't say I've ever enjoyed your company, I'm afraid I have little choice but to ask you and your friends," he shot piercing looks at the other two, "for help. You see, the worst thing imaginable has happened. Santa Claus has gone missing from the North Pole."

"No!" Mark cried, "How could that happen?!"

"Don't be dense, dear cousin," Sanchez smirked, "He has plenty of enemies. It was only a matter of time. He's the most beloved of all childhood icons. There were bound to be those seething with bitter jealousy."

"Wait! Santa Claus?" Jarrod glanced back and forth between Mark and Sanchez the Dirty Elf. "Surely, you must be joking, right? I mean, who in their right mind and at our age still believes in Santa Claus?"

"SANTA'S MISSING?!" John screamed, "BUT WHAT ABOUT THE CHILDREN?! WHAT ABOUT CHRISTMAS?! OH GAWD! WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?!"

After hushing John up by shoving a candy cane into his mouth, Sanchez was able to continue. "Yes, it seems a bitterly jealous foe has kidnapped Santa and taken him hostage somewhere at the North Pole. However, my fellow elves are such wimps that I have been forced to go it alone...."

"So, you're saying that all the other elves are just a bunch of pansies?" Jarrod asked.

"No. They're not THAT bad," Sanchez replied. "Anyway, I was about to give up hope when I remembered how my dear cousin Mark and his friends are superheroes....well, at least they used to be. It's a shame really. I guess there won't be a Christmas this year....."

"Not if we can help it!" Mark exclaimed in a heroic tone that showed no sign of mockery. "You can count me in, cousin! How about you two? Are you going to help or not?"

"Well, DUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHH," John rolled his eyes, "I think I made that clear earlier."

"This seems all rather ridiculous to me since Santa doesn't really exist and I think this is all an elaborate joke or a trap of some sort," Jarrod sighed, "but I guess I'll tag along to look out for you two. I don't really care what becomes of Stinky here."

"That's SANCHEZ," the dirty elf sneered, "Well, all I have to say is welcome aboard. You three best go home and get some rest. You will be of no use to me if you're all worn out. We shall meet here again in the morning."

"If Santa's really being held hostage as you say, then shouldn't we be on our way at this very moment?" Jarrod suggested.

"HE'S FINE!" snapped Sanchez just a little too quickly, "Now, off to bed with you three....AT ONCE!"

Mumbling, the three got into the van and drove away to their respected places of residence.

"Man, it's about time," Sanchez the Dirty Elf grumbled as the newly reformed AT A-Team, minus Kara and Steven, walked towards him. He was dressed in multiple layers of stained and smelly clothing and his face was nearly completely hidden in a just-as-stained and just-as-smelly hat and scarf combo. After a fit of retching and nearly losing their breakfasts, the guys finally managed to huddle with the dirty little man to discuss the plan.

"Now, listen," Sanchez said in a near whisper, "This isn't going to be easy."

"I think you've already proven that," John replied.

"NOT THE HUDDLE!" Sanchez snapped, "This mission, you twit! We have to travel to the North Pole where Santa's being held. It's all here in the note."

"Can we, perhaps, see this note?" Jarrod inquired.

"It's in ELF language. You'd never be able to decipher it!" Sanchez grinned superiorly. "This note says that if we do not reach Santa by midnight tonight, it being Christmas Eve and all, that when his suit's powers activate they will be used not to reward the children of the world but to rule the world of children. Kids will do anything for Santa Claus, including helping him take over the world!"

"Children couldn't possibly be swayed to evil like that!" Mark exclaimed.

"With a little magic dust, those of such simple mind can be swayed to do almost anything!" Sanchez warned the three, "This is no laughing matter...heh."

"Okay then," Jarrod said, "I guess we should be going. So just exactly how are we getting there? Magic dust?"

"You're a genius," Sanchez sneered and threw a fistful of the magical material as high as he could, where it hit all three guys in the face and caused each to sneeze as he'd never sneezed before. This magical sneeze sent each of them hurling into a vortex of such bright, shimmering light that none dared open their eyes. Only when each of them hit the icy cold water did any of their eyes pop wide open and their mouths emit cries of sheer agony. "Oops, guess your aim was off." The dirty elf was standing at the edge of the nearly frozen pond, doubled over with laughter.

"Like we knew how to aim in the first place," Jarrod muttered through chattering teeth. Luckily, the water wasn't that deep and the three were able to wade out on their own. "Mark, will you take care of this, please?" Using his power of fire and not that of ice, Mark created a roaring bonfire and they huddled around it far easier than they had the dirty elf.

As soon as their clothes were dry and their skin warm, the AT A-Team was ready and raring to go....with one minor exception. "NO, I'VE CHANGED MY MIND!" John screamed as Mark and Jarrod dragged him by the arms.

"Dude, you don't have a choice," Mark tried to explain. "It's either now or never."

"Yeah, John," Jarrod smiled, "I mean, what would Santa say if he found out you weren't so brave after all."

"Okay, fine," John gave in, "but you have to promise not to watch!"

After a potty break behind the one tree they could find, the guys finally set off. The journey was long and treacherous. A storm was blowing in and blowing hard. It was difficult to keep their footing. Still, they managed, that is until Mark was jolted to the ground. Something very cold had smashed straight into his ear and knocked him down. He got up and looked around, finally glaring at John. "Very funny," he snapped, "That hurts, you know!"

"It wasn't me, I swear!" John cried.

"You're the only one behind me!" Mark argued, "Who else could it have been?"

Jarrod suddenly noticed that Sanchez was nowhere to be seen. "Hey, guys, that stupid smelly elf is….OW!" He too felt himself get smacked in the ear with a snowball. John quickly followed suit as he too was pelted hard with a snowball. In the distance, they could hear wheezy laughter.

"Man, you three are a riot!" Sanchez cracked, "Well, I guess we best continue on our way. It'll be sundown soon. Time's a-wasting."

"You know, for the seriousness of this situation, he sure seems to be taking things a bit too lightly," Jarrod remarked to his comrades. John nodded, but Mark just shook his head.

"He's always been like that," Mark replied, "but he knows what he's doing and if we want to save Santa we don't have a choice but to deal with him until this is done."

Jarrod snorted and wrapped his arms around himself as they continued against the horrid winter wind. Then something came to mind. They were supposedly in the North Pole. He turned to the western sky and watched the sun slowly sink below the horizon. 'That's not possible,' he thought, 'The sun should never have been in the sky in the first place. In the winter, it stays below the horizon for six months.' He swallowed hard. There was something definitely off here. Making sure that the others weren't looking or listening, he put his wrist communicator up to his face. "Kara....Kara, come in...."

Several very long seconds later, Kara appeared on the small video screen. "What is it, Jarrod?"

"Remember how I was telling you last night about that weird elf cousin of Mark's coming and telling us that Santa's being held hostage in the North Pole and that he needs our help? Well, let's just say that I am positive we aren't in the North Pole and I am pretty sure this is a trap. Pinpoint our location ASAP and get here as soon as you can."

"Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can," Kara assured him before signing off. Jarrod was about to get lost in his own worries and thoughts when suddenly a loud, obnoxious noise brought him straight back to earth.

"Here we are!" Sanchez yelled over the wind as they stood before what looked like an abandoned warehouse, "This is where the note says to go. Be careful when you go in. It might just be a trap." Those were the last words Jarrod heard before he was blinded by severe pain coursing through his brain.

After what felt like several very long and agonizing minutes, the pain began to subside. Jarrod opened his eyes, his vision blurry. He waited for them to focus before taking a look around. As it appeared on the outside, they were indeed in a very large and very abandoned warehouse. Still, he couldn't remember entering at all. He also noticed that Sanchez was nowhere to be found.

"Ouch, my head," John groaned, looking like he'd just come out of a trance. "Guys, what just happened? I don't remember coming in at all!"

"Yeah, me either," Mark seemed to be more awake than either John or Jarrod. He had been the first to snap out of it and, unfortunately, the first to discover the gruesome sight. "Guys, you need to see this." The other two came up from behind him. Jarrod gasped in horror while John let out a tremendous sob. There before them lay a beaten and bloodied-up old man who looked almost exactly like….

"Is that…is that Santa Claus?" John finally stammered. "Why is he like that? Where is his suit? Who could have done such a thing?"

"Look up and you'll see!" an elfin voice cackled. The AT A-Team stared up to see Sanchez the dirty and now red suit-wearing elf glaring down at them with an utmost wicked glee sparkling in his utmost wicked eyes. "You three are such FOOLS! Like I would really need YOUR help if Santa was really kidnapped by someone other than me! I just didn't want to get my hands dirty. Luckily, I conveniently remembered my dear superhero cousin and his silly superhero friends. Let me just thank you for all the help you've been. Now the blood's on your hands!"

The guys looked down and felt as if they would be sick. Their clothes were torn and stained with blood as if they had all been in a vicious fight. "So…there really is a Santa?" Jarrod muttered in shock, "…and we possibly just killed him? I can't believe this…."

Mark stared up at his cousin and bellowed, "Why would you do this, Sanchez?! We're family! We trusted you!"

"Well, two of you trusted me," Sanchez laughed, "Jarrod was on to me from the start. An elf knows these things. Fortunately, he was stupid enough to follow you two straight to my lair, probably to make sure the two of you didn't go getting hurt. Little does he know he'll be the one to do the hurting around here…." With that, Jarrod was once again overcome with the same piercing pain and sank down to his knees, his head in his hands.

"Jarrod, are you okay?" John asked timidly. Jarrod looked up at him, his eyes staring blankly. Suddenly, John was sent sailing across the building, where he crashed hard into the wall. "John!" Mark cried, but before he could do anything he found himself soaring into the air where he spun violently before also being slammed straight into the wall. As John had the ability of superhuman strength, he sustained little damage. However, Mark could feel his ribs cracking upon impact and he crumpled in a heap onto the concrete floor.

"Oh, Mark, don't think you're going to get out of this so easily," Sanchez grinned. This time it was Mark who was taken over while Jarrod came to.

"Hey, what's going on?" Jarrod cried, only a second later to be frozen in a thick layer of ice. He watched helplessly as Mark went after John, sending waves of deadly icicles and scorching fireballs after him. This did little to harm John though, as he also possessed the ability of superhuman speed and he'd had more than a little practice dodging such attacks before.

"Grrr, does nothing take care of that pest?!" Sanchez yelled angrily. "Well, I guess it's your turn, Johnny boy." As Mark snapped out of his trance, John easily slipped into his. Before Jarrod knew what was happening, he could feel the bone in his right arm splinter as John sent a crushing blow to the ice that had previously encased him. Now Jarrod was free but extremely injured. His mind was whirling from the pain of his broken arm and he found it hard to concentrate, which was necessary for the use of his psychic abilities. Still, as fast as it was all happening, there would have been little chance of stopping John from grabbing a nearby pipe and smashing Mark's leg in.

With both of them now disabled, John stood before the bloody heap that was Santa Claus and waited. "Well, I guess he's good for something after all," Sanchez chuckled. "Do you really think any of you stood a chance against Santa's powerful magic? With this red suit, I am now in control of the most abundant power source in the world! I shall rule over all! Just as easily as I was able to control your minds with magic dust disguised cleverly in carefully thrown snowballs, I can control the minds of the children of the world! I shall have them kill their parents! I shall have them burn their houses! I shall have them obey my every command! I SHALL RULE! When John is done with Santa, you two are next. JOHN, FINISH THE FAT MAN OFF NOW!"

"Not so fast!" a female voice shouted from the doorway. It was Kara, holding a strange sort of gun which she pointed and shot at John. He was engulfed in a cloud of electricity before collapsing on the ground unconscious. "Sorry, guys," she said, "but until I know how to stop the mind control I have to do this." With that said, she pointed the gun at Jarrod and Mark and sent them sinking down to the ground as well.

When the three finally came to, they could see that Sanchez the Dirty Elf was gone and Kara had even managed to tend to their wounds. Mark tried to sit up, but the pain was excruciating. His chest and leg were both bandaged up, the leg in a splint. "Kara, where's Sanchez? How are Jarrod and John? How's Santa?"

"Man, so many questions," Kara smiled weakly. "You just stay down, okay? You've been seriously hurt."

"But, I don't understand," Mark went on, "How did you know about this? How'd you find us? How'd you get here so fast?"

"Sanchez wasn't the only one who could work a little magic," Kara giggled, "You forget I am a scientific genius. After all, I am the one who implanted locator chips in you guys and invented a teleportation device. Am I right?"

"Oh, yeah…duh," Mark grinned sheepishly but then his eyes filled with panic again. "But what exactly happened to Sanchez if he's not here now?"

"Don't worry," Kara told him. "When I destroyed the suit, Sanchez was destroyed as well. It turns out that if the suit goes, it takes the wearer with it."

"But, Kara, if the suit is gone then so are its powers," Mark pointed out. "Santa won't have any of his abilities anymore. There won't be a Christmas!"

"What, no Christmas?!" John piped up. Mark looked over and saw that the other two had been listening in on his conversation. "How can that be? No Santa? No Christmas? No Santa? What about Christmas?!"

"John, you're repeating yourself," Jarrod said. "Look, it's unfortunate that it had to come to that, but what we need to figure out now is how to save Santa. If I am not mistaken, I think he's still alive, though only just." They looked over at the poor holiday figure. His chest was heaving and it was obvious that he was barely hanging on.

"I am not sure if there is any way we CAN save him," Kara sighed sadly. "Even I don't have that kind of ability. I think it would take a miracle….or at least a bit of magic."

"Wait, magic….source of power….Kara, that's it! If we gave Santa our powers, there might just be a chance!"

"What do you mean?" Mark asked, confused.

"Think about it! Sanchez said that red suit of Santa's contained the most abundant source of power in the world. Well, the three of us possess an incredible amount of power as well. If we were to give our powers to Santa, it might just be enough to revive him and Christmas!"

"Give up our powers? I still don't understand how that will help," John commented.

"Look, Santa needs to have both strength and speed to get around the world in one night. That's where your powers come in, John. Mark, everyone knows that having the power to create ice and snow, not to mention the ability to melt it with fire, would be helpful to someone who works this time of year. Finally, I have psychic abilities and the ability to make myself or anyone else fly. I am certain that would help both Santa and his reindeers. It all makes sense! I mean, we'd given up being superheroes before this all happened anyway!"

Mark hesitated, "I don't know, Jarrod. Give up our powers? That's asking an awful lot." John nodded in agreement.

"Is it asking an awful lot to save Santa's life?" Kara replied, "Is it asking an awful lot to preserve a cherished holiday that people all over the world have celebrated for many, many centuries. Is it asking an awful lot to keep the tradition going, one that brings families and loved ones together and brings out the best in mankind?"

"I don't want Santa to die," John frowned, "and I don't want Christmas to die either."

"Mark, it's up to you then," Kara said, "I used the same type of gun your old archenemy used to take away your powers long ago. I did this only for your own protection. Now I can either return these powers to you or give them to Santa and hopefully save his life and the holiday."

"Then we must do it," Mark relented, "I have been aware of his existence since I was a child and never stopped believing. I am sorry that it was one of my own relation that committed such a dreadful crime, and if I have the power to set things right again then I will be more than happy to oblige."

Kara nodded and pointed the gun, throwing it in reverse. Before their eyes, the man that was just seconds ago near death began to glow. The wounds ceased their bleeding and closed up at once. His skin went from a ghostly white to a rosy peach. His big blue eyes opened and he started to stir. Finally, the glowing stopped and the four of them watched as the fat, jolly man they had come to know rose up and looked at them. A grateful smile washed over not only Santa's face, but all the others as well. He was even donning a brand new bright red suit and suddenly started laughing merrily. "Ho, ho, ho! I am back from the brink! Thank you, AT A-Team. Because of your gift…your sacrifice…I am able to continue bringing happiness to children all over the world and the beloved Christmas holiday can keep going as it has for so many generations. Thank you again so very much." With that, Santa made a waving gesture towards the guys and instantly their wounds were healed as well. He then touched his nose and disappeared, most likely to the North Pole to begin the ritual he was so well-known for.

"Guys, I think it is best if we get going," Kara yawned, "Of course, Santa Claus won't come unless you're sleeping, right?"

"Agreed," Jarrod replied, "Do tell us though, if we are not in the North Pole ourselves then just where exactly are we?"

"Ah, hell, somewhere in Canada," Kara chuckled.

"That's weird, eh?" John remarked.

"Whatever," Jarrod too found himself yawning, "Let's just go back home. I'm tired."

"Merry Christmas, you guys," Mark smiled as Kara pushed a button on her wrist communicator and the four of them disappeared as magically as Santa had himself.


End file.
